


a little gambling is fun when you’re with me

by SHACKLEFORD



Series: Poker, Strip [2]
Category: Charmed (TV 2018)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:22:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22569319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SHACKLEFORD/pseuds/SHACKLEFORD
Summary: Harry and Macy finish their game of strip poker.
Relationships: Harry Greenwood/Macy Vaughn
Series: Poker, Strip [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1623940
Comments: 2
Kudos: 35





	a little gambling is fun when you’re with me

“I want to take this pretty bra off you myself.”

Macy blinked for a moment, stunned into silence for the first time all night, the wine induced confidence all but evaporating into the sudden heat of the living room. Her mouth ran dry, and she could only stare at Harry like he was a mirage in the desert, unwilling to believe he was truly real, that any of this was more than a fantasy and she would soon wake up in her own bed alone.

“Macy?” Harry peered at her, confusion evident on his face with a tinge of his own insecurity. “I’m sorry…”

“No!” Macy cried suddenly, gasping for air she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “I mean, no don’t be sorry. I’m sorry.”

Harry broke into a soft smile, shoulders relaxing, and held out his hands. She grabbed them and allowed herself to be pulled to her feet, sighing as their bodies connected chest to toe, skin to skin. He was so warm, comforting, and she sank into him as he wrapped his arms tenderly around her waist, pulling them closer together.

“Macy,” he murmured, chest rumbling and voice laced with the tenderness she loved most about her Whitelighter, “remember, you can say no at any time.”

“I don’t want to,” she said without a second thought. “I just...for a moment I wondered if this was actually real.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “You didn’t have that thought once during our little game? I certainly did.”

She laughed and rolled her eyes. “I mean the wine helped the fantasy, but the reality of it all. It’s…”

“Striking?”

“Yes,” she skated her hands across his chest, fingers lightly tugging at the smattering of soft chest hair she encountered. “Incredibly so.”

Harry shivered beneath her touch, eyes closing for a moment. He opened them again, eyes ablaze with that now familiar lust and asked, “May I kiss you? Finally?”

Instead of answering, Macy grasped his shoulders and pulled him closer until their lips collided in a chaotic storm, missing their marks until they finally slotted together and she sighed in blissed out satisfaction at their first real kiss. His mouth was so soft and yielding, the scrape of his stubble sending tingles down her spine, and she knew absolutely that this was real, flesh and bone and blood _real_. 

Harry was equally overwhelmed and still wondered when he would wake up from this delightful fever dream, but he could taste the fruity wine they’d shared on Macy’s lips and was surrounded by the scent of her peppermint and rose shampoo that he had grown so incredibly fond of since they first met. In his dreams, all of these senses were missing and he would awake hollow, searching, and unforgivingly cold. To finally bring this saga to the beginning of its next chapter, to fill in the pieces from his imagination was almost too much. Almost.

Harry took a chance and sucked at Macy’s plump bottom lip with the most tender care, trying not to laugh in delight as she responded by fisting one of her hands in his hair as the other dug into his shoulder and pulling him closer. He tugged again, sucking that lip into his mouth for a moment before releasing it to her soft moans; he took advantage of her open mouth and teased at its entrance with his tongue, swiping lightly across the tip of hers like a silent promise. 

She gasped in his arms at the contact, and he swore he heard a quiet, “Oh, Harry,” before he took the chance and dove into her mouth, letting their tongues come together in a tantalizingly slow dance, tasting each other for the first time. He was dizzy with desire for this woman, but remained patient as he had always been. Patience was one of his finely tuned virtues, especially when it meant savoring every single gasp and sigh and moan he could coax from Macy’s wanting mouth. 

Macy’s hand continued to tug at his hair as she sunk into his body, enveloped in Harry’s warmth. Her other hand found purchase on his chest and she couldn’t help but drag her fingernails down and across, skating over one of the nipples she had so desperately wanted to bite earlier. Harry practically jumped at the first scrape of her nails, leaning into the touch with a gasp as she repeated the gesture. 

“Do you like that, Harry?” Macy teased, circling the tightened nub with her finger before pulling once, sharp and quick. He shuddered and nodded, mouth falling open in wordless surrender. She did it again, grasping his nipple between thumb and forefinger and pulling firmly, before twisting and releasing it as Harry brokenly whined and squirmed against her, his chest arcing up for more contact. 

“M-macy, my goodness,” he whispered into the tight space between them, his chest flushing a bright pink and creeping up his neck. “You’re s-so good.” 

Macy fought back a moan as she heard her prim and proper Whitelighter become undone with each pass of her fingers as she plucked and pulled, teased and twisted. He was so damn sensitive and she could have stood here and played with his chest like this all night, watching him writhe beneath her touch. “Have you ever…,” she paused, cheeks reddening as she was suddenly overcome with embarrassment by the brazen question she wanted to ask. 

“Have I-ah, what?” Harry huffed, chest heaving, lost in a fog of ecstasy.

Macy forged ahead; ever the scientist, she tried to push aside her emotions to discover a solution to her hypothesis. “Have you ever come from this, Harry?”

He shook his head, eyes screwed shut at the sensations, at her words; it was all so intense that he wanted to savor each moment as it crashed over him. Finally, she pressed her lips to one nipple, drawing it into his mouth and laving at the sensitive bud with her soothing tongue. His eyes shot open to watch her as one of his hands wound its way into her plush curls, desperate for something to keep him tethered to reality. 

“Oh Macy, oh yes,” he groaned as she scraped her teeth across his skin, wanting to pull her away so he could kiss her, yet simultaneously wanting to keep her pinned exactly where she was and see if maybe he _could_ come from her relentless ministrations. The former ended up creeping through the fog, and he tugged her away from his chest, bringing their lips crashing together. It was all tongue and teeth and slick, swollen lips, but he wanted to taste her again, desperately wanted to hold her against his body and never let go. 

Suddenly, the floorboards above them began to squeak almost in warning. Macy and Harry wrenched apart with heaving gasps, staring up at the ceiling with wide eyes. Macy spoke first in a threadbare whisper, “I think we should go.”

Harry looked at her, eyes scrunched up in lust laced confusion. “Where?”

Macy bit her lip to contain the bubble of laughter threatening to burst. “Harry, you’re so...,” she paused, mulling over her words carefully, “...dumb when you get all hot and bothered.” 

Somehow Harry’s face managed to turn an even darker shade of red as he wracked his brain for the answer to his own question. “It’s not like I can help it!” he whispered heatedly. “You and that mouth of yours are going to get me into trouble.”

Macy’s eyes flashed with heat as she leaned in closer. “I thought you liked my mouth.”

“Gods, Macy,” he gasped as she invaded his space and brushed her lips against his, the barest of touches that had him yearning for more. “I do, I absolutely do.”

She hummed in assent, kissed the corner of his lips, then whispered in his ear, “Orb us to your condo.”

He blinked at her, for a moment stunned. “Oh! I honestly forgot I could do that.”

Macy couldn’t stop the sharp laugh that escaped this time, so she buried her face into Harry’s neck to muffle the noise, shuddering against him. Another creak of the floorboards echoed through the living room, and Macy popped back up with a wild smile on her face, “Now, Harry!”

In a flash they were ripped through space and transplanted, still firmly intertwined, in the bedroom of Harry’s condo. Macy opened her eyes slowly, blinking as she got adjusted to their new location. Orbing always made her slightly disoriented, but not Harry; he was gazing down at her, running a hand over her soft curls and wondering still how he managed to end up nearly naked with such a beautiful, intelligent witch. Finally, Macy came back to Earth and peered at him, eyes softening and a smile blossoming on her face. 

“I’m glad you didn’t forget how to do that,” she murmured as she brought a hand to cup his cheek. He automatically leaned into her touch, savoring this moment where they finally had absolute privacy, a moment unto themselves. Slowly he tilted his head forward and captured her lips with his own, moving them into a tender kiss that rapidly stoked their flame back to a roaring blaze, ripping through them both and leaving them breathless. 

Macy unlatched herself from Harry’s mouth and moved to his neck, sucking and biting a haphazard trail down to his collarbone and drinking in the moans she elicited at each rough pass of her teeth on his skin. Harry managed to steer them towards his bed and pulled Macy down on top of him, while she continued to lavish him with attention. 

“Macy-ah…,” Harry let out a surprised gasp as she located a tender spot he hadn’t realized could turn him on so intensely and began to suck, “did we ever - gods, what are you doing?”

Macy popped her head up from the spot under Harry’s rib, disappointed that she hadn’t left a mark from her fervent actions. “Not good?”

“Too good,” Harry tugged her up, bringing their mouths back together, needing to kiss her now or surely the world would end. 

“You’re too good, love, but I have a question.”

Macy gave him a look that clearly said, ‘Really? Now?’ but she was patient, rested her head on his chest while Harry gathered the remains of his dignity, lost from a few well placed love bites. Harry shook his head; he was turning into a mess around this woman. 

“I was going to ask if we ever declared a winner of our little game.”

Macy raised an elegant brow. “I thought it was obvious.”

“Well, obviously not.” 

She rolled her eyes and swatted at his chest. “It was me, _obviously_.”

“Is that so?”

Macy nodded, rising from his chest and moving to straddle his lap once more, not-so-subtly brushing her ass against Harry’s impossibly hard cock and making him shudder. “The fact is you had less clothes on before we ended up here.”

He stabilized Macy’s body with a firm grip on her hips, refusing to let her distract him despite desperately wanting her to keep moving. “Yes, however you were just about to let me remove your bra, which by the way somehow still hasn’t happened, but had you done so we would have been tied.”

Macy pointedly folded her arms under her breasts, making them swell and practically burst from their cotton confines and shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t see your point, Greenwood.”

Harry blinked and licked his lips, words quite suddenly evaporating completely from his mind as he stared at her chest. “Well, I uh...I suppose…”

“That I’m the winner?” she finished for him with an almost evil grin. 

He closed his eyes and sighed, realizing he had been defeated by his base desires for the witch. “Fine. I declare you, Macy Vaughn, the winner of strip poker.”

Macy whooped with delight before kissing him soundly. “Good! Winner gets to decide what we do next.”

“And what might that be, Miss Vaughn?” Harry said as he caressed her hips with the tips of his fingers, delighting himself as she shivered at the touch. 

Suddenly a wave of embarrassment flooded Macy’s entire being. She was good with the banter, it was classic Harry and Macy after all; comfortable and easy to slip into, like her favorite sweatpants after a long day at work. But now they were here, far from her home turf, on the brink of coming together for the first time, and she was struck dumb. The mini bursts of confidence weren’t coming now, but she wanted to gain control, to prove to herself that she could be bold and follow through with it. More than anything, she wanted to see Harry naked. To taste him, and touch the parts of him she’d only dreamt about, to finally know what he sounded like when he came, if he was quiet or could scream so loud the neighbors complained. 

Harry watched as she processed her waves of thoughts, as her face heated with embarrassment, concern written all over his expression. She looked down at him, finally, and was overwhelmed again, but this time with gratitude for this man; so patient was he instead of demanding anything from her, willing to take all that she could give, accepting and open and in awe of her. So damn tender and respectful of her agency.

Still, he waited, curious but patient, his fingers tracing small comforting circles on the soft skin of her hips. Finally, Macy leaned down and pressed their lips together, slow and gentle. 

“I’m sorry,” she murmured against him. 

Harry chuckled, low and rumbly. “For what?”

Macy huffed out a sigh. “Being so nervous. I get cocky when I’m nervous, but I may have worn it out.”

He kissed her temple, down to her earlobe, whispered, “I’m nervous, too.”

“Really?” she still had her face pressed against his shoulder, words muffled and warm against his skin. 

“Of course,” he kissed her temple again, “I’m here with the most beautiful woman I’ve had the pleasure of getting to call a friend, nearly naked, and craving her so desperately, but all I want is to make her happy and what if I don’t? What if I can’t?”

Macy popped her head up at that. “But you do.”

Harry gave her a gentle grin, short and full of sweetness. “Then I have nothing to be nervous about.”

She smiled back and nodded, confidence renewed from his words. “Can I tell you what I want to do?”

His mouth rapidly went dry, and he swallowed a shaky breath, “Please.”

Macy leaned forward and whispered in his ear, “I want to suck you off, Harry.”

He groaned aloud at the thought of Macy going down on him, drawing his cock into her mouth with plush lips and nimble fingers, tasting and teasing him until he came, messy and wild with abandon. “Oh, Macy…,”

She began to move, shuffling down towards him when he grasped her shoulders, “...I just don’t know if I can last that long. You’ve been driving me crazy, love.”

Before she could respond, he tightened his grip and pulled her close, crushing their lips together in a messy kiss. He pulled them apart, drinking in her dazed expression and heaving gasps, “Besides, I would rather I go down on you.”

“Oh…,” Macy bit her lip to stop a broken groan from escaping, “...fuck, Harry.”

“Is that a yes?”

She nodded furiously. “Yes, yes, yes, y-,” cut off by another fierce, hot kiss, sealing the deal. 

“But, will you sit on my face?”

Macy was struck totally dumb; she had never in her life done that before, had no idea how or what that would even look like, but had been imagining Harry’s face wedged between her thighs all night, how his stubble would feel scratching against her skin, and her mouth watered in anticipation. Harry kissed her again, and again, opening her up to him, teasing her tongue with gentle swipes of his own as he began to make quick work of her bra, and finally it was gone. How had that managed to stay on so long? But it didn’t matter now as Harry cupped a breast in his hands, his touch so warm as his fingers skated along the delicate skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

He tugged her up again, and Macy began to move, sluggish with desire, and he captured a nipple in his mouth and sucked, rolling the other between thumb and forefinger; but Macy was beyond ready now, once shy and unsure, now all she wanted to do was climb up Harry’s frame and seek the relief she so desperately needed with his tongue between her folds. 

Before she could, Harry was already there, tugging and pushing, sliding down the sheets and yanking her panties off as he went, tossing them to some far corner of the room, pushing her up, up until finally she was hovering over his face. His eyes were wild, hungry, hair tousled, and Macy could only continue to stare as she sunk down, down towards that hot mouth that had ravaged her senseless only moments ago. Finally, _finally_ , her brain stopped churning, anxiety forgotten, and all she could do now was feel.

“Please, Macy,” he quietly begged as she hovered, drawing out the visual for as long as she could stand. “Please, I need to taste you.”

Before she could sink down, he darted his tongue out and _damn_. Macy saw stars as he swiped at her clit in one sure stroke; she hadn’t realized just how riled up she truly was, how wet and aching she had become, and she gripped onto his headboard for dear life, steadying herself as she finally lowered onto his mouth. Harry groaned loud and long as finally, finally! It felt like years had passed, but he swiped his tongue against her clit again trying not to grin as she gasped. 

His tongue began a solid rhythm, drawing slow circles around her clit before diving down and teasing her entrance, drawing more of her wetness out. Harry was delighted beyond reason that finally she was here, his fantasies were fulfilling themselves, but more than anything she desired him and the proof was dripping down his chin. He stared up at her as he continued to tease, and her eyes were firmly shut, fingers white knuckling his wooden headboard.

He pulled away with a gasp, “Macy,” he called, licking his lips, savoring the taste of her, “open your eyes.”

Slowly, tentatively, Macy opened one eye, then the other, before moaning long and low at the sight: Harry’s mouth was pink and slick with her, only her, and he was loving every second of it. “Fuck, Harry,” she gasped again, their eyes locking as he returned to her center, flattened his tongue and drew one long swipe from her aching entrance to her clit. She moaned again, still refusing to close her eyes, totally mesmerized by the sight of Harry; one of her hands found purchase in his hair, trying not to tug as he continued riling her up with his tongue. 

He pulled away again, much to Macy’s disappointment, only to say, “Use both hands, love. Don’t be shy.”

She let out a whine from the back of her throat as her other hand followed, fingers entwining in his hair and finally, yes, Harry had what he wanted: this beautiful, powerful woman tugging at him, desperate and wanting him to drive her towards release. His hands wrapped around her full ass to stabilize as he picked up the pace while she began to rock against him, their eyes never breaking their connection. “Harry, oh-,” she began to tremble as his tongue thrummed at her clit, relentless, heat building in her core and shooting through her entire being, “I think- oh Harry, I think-”

“Mmm, don’t think,” he said from below, voice slightly muffled but reverberating against her sensitive nerves, drawing her higher and higher, “just let go.”

“Oh god, okay, okay,” she gasped, nodding furiously as she rocked desperately against his mouth and finally, there! She came with every ounce of her being, fingers pulling at Harry’s hair, hips thrusting into his mouth, eyes still wide and locked with Harry’s, as she practically screamed his name over and over again, her screams turning into sobs as he continued his relentless assault on her clit, sucking out every last noise he could.

Finally, she collapsed, boneless on his chest, sliding off his mouth, whispering, “Harry, Harry, Harry…,” over and over against his shoulders. He could only chuckle at her predicament. “Asshole!” she moaned with a weak laugh chasing it. Suddenly she was struck with wild abandonment, her laughter growing as she buried her face against his skin. He laughed with her, the pair giggling like they’d pulled off some secret prank in his bed.

“Harry,” she moaned again as the laughter ceased. Her body was still reverberating from his tongue, gods that tongue. “How did you do that?”

He hummed with satisfaction, stroking her sweaty forehead and smiling at her. “Oh, it’s easy when you’re with someone as stunning as you.”

She blushed at that, covering it up with a tender kiss, the taste of herself on his lips only turning her on again. She moaned softly as that deft tongue of his darted out, delved into her mouth, and she met it with her own tongue, clutching back against him because now it was her turn to help him find his own release, to give him as much earth shattering pleasure as he had given her. 

Her hands skated down his chest, pausing to tug on one of those sensitive nipples again, making him buck up against her, before she reached her prize. He was so hard the tip of his cock had breached the elastic of his perfectly ironed boxer shorts, the tip leaking onto his stomach. 

“Fuck, Harry,” she whispered as her finger circled the head and he whined out loud, “that really drove you wild, huh?”

“God, uhnn, Macy,” he was panting now, almost painfully hard, and if she didn’t stop touching him he would come on the spot, “you have to- ah, stop.” 

“Aww, but why?”

Harry pulled her on top of him again, allowing her still dripping center to straddling his aching cock, “Because I want to come inside of you.”

Her eyes shuttered closed at his words, overwhelmed as she felt him and understood full well that her basest, deepest fantasies were about to be fulfilled. Quickly, he pressed a hand to her abdomen and whispered a song-like spell. She raised a brow in question, and he responded by kissing her deeply. “So we don’t have to worry,” he said gently into her ear, before his teeth worried at the lobe. 

She nodded in understanding, then scrambled to tug off his boxers not making sure they were fully removed before grabbing him in her hand and giving him one firm stroke. At that, he broke and shouted out, “Oh, fuck, Macy!”

She grinned wildly as he cursed; she had never heard him say anything beyond a well placed ‘damn’ and knowing that it was her that did it, her touch that pushed him to obscenity sent a bolt of pleasure coursing through her being. She hovered above him, his cock in her hand, before slowly sinking down until he was buried to the hilt. Normally she would go slow, but she couldn’t stand the waiting anymore; she was riled up again and knew he was close to the edge, too.

They began to rock together, Macy’s hands clutching at Harry’s shoulders, while his own came to clutch at her ass again, kneading and using his grip to thrust her up and down again and again. Their eyes connected once more, and Macy never could say before that eye contact turned her on, but watching Harry as his cheeks flushed pink, his mouth falling open still glistening from when she rode his face, she could safely say that it was at the top of her list. 

Harry could only stare at her mesmerized by her curls framing her face, her breasts swaying as he thrust up into her heat, losing all sense of time and reality. He had wanted this for so long, so, so long, and she began to meet him thrust for thrust, rhythm becoming lost to pure instinct as they became one, and finally he could feel himself approaching the end, a near blinding heat unfurling in his veins. “M-macy,” he gasped, hips still moving, “I’m so close, love, oh fuck, I’m close.”

Macy nodded fervently, “Oh fuck, me too, Har, me too! Please, please come for me, come inside me.”

Her words triggered something deep within him, and before he could even process it, he was coming undone, releasing himself inside of her with a yell; he vaguely registered that she, too, was moaning his name aloud, grinding down against him as he continued to thrust and grip and cry out, their speech becoming nothing, their bodies blurring together into one being, as bright lights shone around them while their bodies rose into the air before they crashed down into a sweaty, entangled heap on the bed. 

Harry opened his eyes, not realizing when he had shut them, to find Macy panting on his chest. He gently rubbed her back to bring her back to Earth, and she gazed up at him with love shining in her eyes. She brushed a stray piece of his hair away from his forehead. “I think we broke your bed.” 

Harry let out a broken laugh, “Did we?”

“You didn’t feel that as we landed?”

He hummed low in his throat, “I could only feel you. Wait, did you say ‘landed’?”

She nodded, biting her bottom lip as she grinned, “yeah I uh, think we floated. I saw some bright light and couldn’t feel the mattress anymore.”

Harry shook his head in wonder, before bringing her in for a kiss, sweet and easy. “I had no idea.”

“You were gone, huh?” she laughed, clearly pleased with herself. He smacked her bottom teasingly, but that only made her laugh louder. “You sneak!”

“I’ll get you again, too, if you’re not careful,” he murmured against her cheek, kissing it over and over as he clutched at her, pinching her ass. 

“Mmm, I bet you will,” she sighed softly as she melted into him. “But I really do think we need to get you a new bed.”

Macy swung up and over his body, leaning over the side of the bed, which provided him with an absolutely delightful view of her ass and legs that he immediately began to touch and stroke. “Harry! I’m doing something!”

“Well, so am I,” he mumbled, his hands rubbing firm, sure circles on her sensitive skin. He heard her moan as a rogue thumb delved between her cheeks, before she shot back up again with a heated grin on her face. He stored that thought away for a later time, perhaps later tonight or first thing in the morning, or maybe after a light lunch, or anytime he could get his hands on her.

“Yep, it is definitely broken,” she said, curling back up against his side. “We smashed the legs.”

“Ah, well I didn’t care much for this bed anyways,” Harry replied, stroking her back. He couldn’t get his hands off of her, even if he tried. 

“I guess this means you’ll have to sleep in my bed from now on.” Macy rolled onto her elbows, leaning down to give him a quick peck on the lips. 

“Oh, you guess?” he cradled the back of her head and pulled her in for a deeper kiss, sucking her bottom lip into his mouth. 

“Mmm, I know,” she grinned, letting him take control of the kiss, soft and slow and full of such tenderness she thought her heart would burst. “I think I’m in love with you, Harry.”

“You think?” he teased.

“I know,” she said again, firmly, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pulling him on top of her. “I know I love you.”

“I love you too, Macy.”

—  
**The next day…**

Maggie stretched and yawned as she made her way down the stairs at the manor, clad in her favorite bright blue pajama bottoms with the tiny ice cream cones all over it and a bright pink robe. She had a rough night’s sleep and was looking forward to a big, vegan-ish breakfast from Harry. As she rounded the corner, she noticed the living room had wine still left out.

She wandered over and picked up one of the glasses of wine, sniffing at it. “Do I want to be that person who drinks wine before noon?” she asked herself, before taking a sip at it and cringing. “Ugh, spoiled.”

She put the glass back down, then noticed the deck of cards, which had been splashed across the coffee table haphazardly like a game that had been finished in a hurry. That’s when Maggie noticed Macy’s pajamas strewn on the floor, along with what she thought may be Harry’s white button down and pants folded neatly on the sofa. 

“Oh, crap,” she whispered, before turning and yelling, “Mel! Get up!”

A few moments later she heard her older sister’s footsteps as she unhappily tramped down the stairs clad in a giant grey sweatshirt and plaid pajama bottoms. “What?” Mel asked, throat still groggy from sleep, arms crossed tightly. She refused to go any further than the bottom stair and her eyes still partially shut.

“Ugh! Come here!” Maggie pointed at the spot in front of her. Mel could be such an asshole in the mornings, but she needed her to get over it.

“What happened here?” Mel asked when she finally joined her sister. 

“I’m not sure,” Maggie brought a finger to her chin, tapping it thoughtfully. “But this feels familiar. Like the time Parker and I played Twister together.”

“Yeah,” Mel started, face screwed up in thought, “or like the time Niko and I played Battleship together.”

“Do you think...Harry? And Macy?” Maggie made an ‘o’ with her thumb and forefinger, thrusting another finger through it and wiggling her eyebrows.

“Gross! Ew!” Mel cried, stomping off towards the kitchen. “You straight people are so disgusting!”

Maggie smiled at the scene she had found. “I’m just so happy they finally did it!”

“Maggie!” Mel called from the kitchen. “It’s too early to think about what ‘it’ is. As I said: straight people, sick, unnatural.”

Maggie rolled her eyes and followed Mel to the kitchen. “Oh whatever, if it wasn’t for straight people you would have just been a lesbian twinkle in mom and dad’s eyes.”

“Maggie!”

**THE END**


End file.
